She was hospitalized this morning,
age is such a witch.
She always loved her black and white times, but wasn’t fond of grey.
And for a rainbow lady like her, those grey walls felt so unfair.
I visited her with colourful flowers, and the kashmiri shawl gifted by her late husband.
I filled the empty chair beside her.
I could see laugh lines forming around her lips and closed eyes.
“It’s you as always” she said and opened her eyes.
Her son and his wife entered, worried and panicked.
It was my first time watching them visit my long-time friend.
After a while,
her son came out with eyes cascading tears, tears that only reflected guilt and regrets.
Beside him, I saw a lady with eyes filled with sorrow only for her husband.
It made me sad, too sad for my aged friend.
I went back, and sat beside her whilst she was humming her favourite song.
Keeping her face towards the window she told me, “Sometimes if you can’t forget people who give you pain then it’s better to pretend to forget them.”
Her metaphors & ironies were familiar to my poetic heart.
She continued, “but the tragedy is, in either way you’re the one who hurt the most”, and a low laugh of mockery escaped her pale lips.
Turning towards me she asked, “Can you cover me with that shawl, and take me out to that garden outside the window?”
We sat on the dusted wooden bench, and she leaned on my shoulder.
“Friend isn’t it strange that we hold their hand in the fear that they may get lost,
but when they finally let go of our hand, we feel lost?”
“Yes, it is. But you finally found your long desired destination. Didn’t you?”
She hummed in response.
“So, are you happy now?”
“Not at all”
“You’re such a bad liar. You were humming your favourite song a while ago.”
And she laughed tiredly.
“You’re not planning to leave me alone now, right?” My voice cracked helplessly.
And no answer came after that.
I looked at her closed eyes,
I smiled at the honesty and beauty of the last moments.
And I cried for they’re last, and they’re gone forever.
That day every moment had irony, everything was ironic.